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My leg is almost better. At least, it feels better. Resting at the Blythe's house was a good plan. I had some good conversations with John and I helped Gilbert with the chores in the house. What I'm doing right now is, reading a book. Gilbert is in the room of his father, I think doing homework.
"Hey," I look up from my book and see Gilbert. "Hi." I say, standing up. "Can I do something for you?" I close my book. "Yes, can you maybe watch my dad. I don't want him to be alone." I nod and walk to the kitchen. "Does he needs some tea?" "No, he just got some. I have to fix something in the stable, I'll be back in a half hour."
I walk in the room of mr. Blythe and I see that he is sleeping. I sit down on the chair where, I think, Gil sat on. I start reading my book again, and sometimes I look up from my book, to see if mr. Blythe woke up. "You're back." I hear a voice say. I look up from my book, and see that John is awake.
"How do you feel?" I ask, closing my book. "I feel amazing." "That's good to hear." Silent becomes the biggest sound of this moment. "The snow is perfect. Beautiful white. I wish it could be always winter." "Snow isn't that very good for the harvest, but it is indeed beautiful."
After a long time of silent, the room fills it with coughs. Deep coughs. "Mr. Blythe, are you alright?" He doesn't stop coughing. I kneel down next to him, and help him sit straight up. His coughs become worst and then, it all stopped. "No, no, no, no, no!" I shout.
I run outside and yell, "Gilbert!". I run to the stable. "Gilbert, your father. He-" I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. He looks up to me with fear in his eyes. He stands up and runs past me. All I can do is sit in the snow. If this is happening, for real. A tear escapes from my eye. It slowly makes it way over my cheek.
➸
A black horse pulls the box in the front of the queue. Behind that Gilbert, behind Gilbert the minister and his family. Behind them, me and Adam. We are all dressed in black. Why black though? Why do people choose such a depressing color for an funeral. If I could choose, I'd choose white. Like the snow, John loves to see.
"Let not your heart be troubled. Ye believe in God, believe also me. In my fathers house are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself... for where I am, there ye may be also."
People start walking away. Away from the grave of mr. Blythe. Away from John. He will always have a place in my heart. He felt like the dad that I never had. I will never forget what he was to me. How he changed my life. How he made it better.
When the most people were gone, I saw Gilbert sitting next to the grave. I don't know if he wants some alone time, but he knows where he can find me.
➸
I'm watching the snow fall from the sky. I wrote a poem about the death of John. Planning on giving it to Gilbert. He doesn't have anyone else, no family. It would be so sad, not having anybody to share life with. I'm glad I have Adam, but for Gilbert is it an other story.
My thoughts are broken by a hum of someone. I tilt my head up and see Gilbert with tears in his eyes. "Can I join you?" He asks with a voice crack. I nod and make some place for him. Here we are, sitting by our tree. This tree was our hang out spot when we were little. All our sword fights took place at this tree.
"He didn't deserve this." I say after a long time. A few snobs came in the air. I turn my head and see the tears streaming down on Gilbert's face. I pull him into a hug and rub circles on his back. "It's okay to cry." I tell him. We sat there the rest of the day. Crying, talking about how great Gilbert's dad was. I decided not to give him the poem yet. That comes later.
